trompeuR foliE
by addagirl
Summary: l/j love/hate?: Set in the 70's; This fic is different from *any* MWPP/L or l/j out there. It's freakishly different; Slut!James; Tortured!Remus; Druggie/Hippie/SexuallyUndecided!Lucius? This is MWPP/L like you've never seen ^.^ r/r, my pretties (Or Toto


I Love you, love you, Lily

Okay, all you beautiful people! Before anything happens, the rating is there for a reason; There're adult themes, innuendo, et cetera, and it's all in the 70's.

Of course there's the mandatory Love triangle, but that's not all. Read it if you dare. Don't let the MAN keep you from it! YES, my brother, YES, my sister, salvation is HERE!

But for now, kick off your shoes, relax your feet, and away we walk.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, nor am I affiliated, in any way, with the characters of the HP fandom. The name "O'Flaherty" is taken from the second book, CoS, as is "Smethley", "Gambol", "Japes", etc, etc. I don't claim ownership of the quotes, either, and their sources are duly credited. Marius's name is borrowed from _Pandora_ by Anne Rice. He has no last name.

In short, I'm not trying to plagiarize, get over it.

Oh Yeah; some slang you need to know: AFA means A Friend Always.

Chapter One

"Fate is a Fickle Thing"

__

And they do not know the future mystery,

or understand ancient matters.

And they do not know what is going to happen to them;

and they will not save their souls from the future mystery.

—The Dead Sea Scrolls, prophecy of the Essenes

__

Now has come the last age of the song of Cumae.

From the renewed spirit of the Ages a new Order is born.

Now the Virgin returns, the reign of Saturn returns.

Now a new generation is sent down from heaven on high.

—Virgil, Fourth Eclogue, messianic prophecy of the Sibyl

__

Time itself is a circle; everything recurs.

—Friedrich Nietzsche

__

What goes around comes around.

—Motto of the Hell's Angels

~~~*~~~

He looked at the man seated in the high-backed leather throne. He glared at the desk in front of him. And he resumed pacing.

"How can a prophecy _not_ come to pass? If we've already lived through our futures, if we have each our own destiny, woven by the Moira, whom even bloody _Zeus_ wouldn't disturb, how can you sit there behind your big oak desk and tell me 'The world may be destroyed if they don't like each other'? You're on the road to insanity, you are, and you're trying to take me with you!"

The man's blue eyes, so similar to those twinkling from the other side of that mentioned length of wood, smoldered cobalt as he paced a trench in his colleague's damascene carpet.

"I'll tell you why I can tell you, if you'll let me," said the serenely seated quidam. He looked up at his high-strung associate as he leaned back in his comfortable chair. His mustachioed lip quirked at the corner before he began.

"I say the world will be destroyed if he doesn't like her simply because of this: it is the truth."

The man's breath came shallow and fast, his form shaking with the effort of self-restraint. "You. Are. A. Bloody. Flipping. _Imbecile!_"

"Come now, Marius, there is no need for malediction. Slandering me will not affect the destruction of the world as we know it."

"Albus Dumbledore, _you_ are a smarmy, pompous _bastard,_ and I will not sit idle and watch, as you watch, the wizarding community's corruption!" The man (now Marius) punctuated this declamation with a sound pound on the desk.

The bright twinkle slowly drained from Dumbledore's eyes. His sky blue irises began to cloud, a billowing, swirling white quickly overtaking the once majestic blue. When his eyes were wholly that otherworldly, ever-changing white, he spoke, in a voice not his own;

"_I tell you today is tomorrow_," the voice proclaimed, "_and you tell me I tell you lies. I tell you that good things will follow; I look straight into your eyes. You say that I know nothing of anything, and yet I know all of everything. I never give reasons for what I do; do not presume to question me._"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, blinking hard, as though his eyes had been forced open by an outer entity. When he opened them, they were their uniform clear azure.

"What did I say?"

Marius stopped his pacing and crossed the room, slumping into an armchair across from Dumbledore. He sighed. "You said something, aside from that terrible lyricism that you opt when entranced, about today and tomorrow being the same. You said something about good things and eye contact, and then," and here he wore a sardonic smile, "You said that you know everything."

Albus leaned further back in his chair. Where before his eyes had twinkled a merry white, they now held a weary gleam. "I do know everything. Everything they allow me to know, anyway." He closed his eyes and slumped in his chair, looking for all the world like just a tired old man.

"But tell me, Albus. When are you expecting it to happen? I mean, Tom is still one of us. They haven't turned him yet; his will is still too strong. And he still loves the girl, whether they let him see her or not."

"He will try as long as within his power to avoid it. He shall speak with her, offer advice when she asks, et cetera. But he will have established himself as a good person to seek advice from, so she shall ask plenty." He sighed. " 'Seek and ye shall find.' But what if one finds, not what one is looking for, but the hellish programme behind it?"

"That doesn't answer my question." Marius got up and re-assumed his endless trek. "And, knowing you, there's a reason you're telling me this." Marius stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. "Don't walk me in circles, Al. Tell me straight. Is it going to happen to Lily? I need to know; is it going to happen to Lily?"

Dumbledore looked at his friend, irises limned heavy syenite. When he finally replied, his tone carried no echo of its usual allegresse; "Indeed; it shall reach the zenith with her generation. But they will not win. I appologize."

Marius took a sharp breath, closing his eyes, and sat heavily in the silken armchair.

"This puts you in an incredibly inequitable position; having to choose between your best friend and your goddaughter. But you've got to try and find what's right. Do what's for the best. And if that is to abandon your goddaughter—"

"I'll be damned!" Marius cried, and promptly egressed the room, his footsteps resounding on the mobile stone stairwell.

"Yes," Dumbledore whispered at his colleague's evanescent frame. His eyes grew achromatic. "You will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Damn._

There she is. There she always is. Each time I see her, I am stricken as with lightning, and I wonder; why didn't I tell her?

"I love you, love you, Lily Evans; I love the way you smile. I love you, _love_ you, Lily Evans; you're beautiful, you're gorgeous, you're--" _Not mine._

And it's my own fault, too; it's my fault that I have to see her everyday, every single damnable day. It's my fault that I have to endure the sight of the love of my life in the arms of one of my best friends.

Enter Remus Lupin.

I look at him, smiling, laughing, and think what made him do it. I look at her, smiling, laughing, and wonder what happened. The girl's got portents raining gold on her— and, ah, hence is unattainable.

Realization almost inevitably calls sufferance;

It's my own fault that I can't love her.

James stood there, sequestered in one lonesome corner of the Gryffindor common room, watching Lily Evans as she spoke with Remus on their way toward the fat lady. He watched his friend secure that traitorous arm around Lily's waist. He watched as his love put a hand around Remus in kind.

Then he watched as his love kissed his confidante.

And it was his own damned fault.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Why does it have to be this way?_ Remus inattentively guided Lily out of the common room. He sensed his friend's forlorn gaze, felt his feelings, his turmoil.

_He doesn't want to ruin our friendship; he just wants to love _her. _Although it really is his fault things stand as is._

"And yours," that malevolent part of his conscience whispered, smirking in the displeasure it knew it was bringing him.

"No," he thought, "It's not!" But the memories came, unbidden, trickling through his lugubrious mind, to fill every crack and crevice.

"It's your fault, Remus, It's your fault, Remus, It's your fault—"

Flash

"Remus!"

_James called to me that day, that fateful day last year_.

__

The day that Everything Got Fucked Up.

"Yeah?" _I turned around, expecting to see a grin mirroring my own; New Prank!_ _But as I turned to see my friend's face, there was no too-wide smile there. Only a deadly seriousness in his eyes, a succubus draining the good from my happy day._

"God… Prongs, man, what is it?" _I searched his eyes; they held no answer._

_James took a deep breath before speaking; that's never good._

"Remus. I've got to talk to you. Alone. Now." _And, thus said, he turned and quit the common room, me on his heels. He led me out of the common room, up several staircases, down a winding hall of knights, who turned their heads as we passed. Even they could sense James' tumultuous emotions. God, what was wrong?_

"Remus." _He breathed again. Twice. That made twice. And he was sweating! Oh, God, God, God, what the bloody hell's the matter?_

"Remus." _After a long pause, he had spoken again._ "Remus. Remus, I need you to do something for me." _He took yet another vaticinate breath. God, James, out with it!_ "I need you to…"

"To…(?)"

"I need. For you. To…" _He took yet _another_ breath. Why?_ "I need you to go out with Lily. For me."

"(!?!?…!)" _I sucked in a deep breath, looking at him with saucer-wide eyes. Was he mad!?_

"James… James, I—"

"Don't say you can't. God, Remus, don't say you can't." _He was shaking._ "Remus, you _have_ to. Peter's Peter. Sirius is one of must my best friends, but you know how he is. I trust him with my secrets, but I can't trust him with _this_… he might…"_ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath._

_He continued after a moment._ "But I know you, Remus. You wouldn't. It's got to be you… Please." _He wasn't looking at me._

But after a time, he finally looked up. And I told him I'd do it.

And apparently he didn't know me. Because I did.

_I, Remus Lupin, werewolf extraordinaire, _did_ fall in love with Lily Evans._

Flash

_And now we're walking together, she and I, and I wonder if she knows what happened. I'll never forget that day, when James was just so… _not_ James… it was almost sick._

Why does everything bad happen to me?

But I kept walking.

And she kept walking with me.

Why, oh why, does it have to be this way?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He liked it here.

He liked the way the pillows lining the room were always in the same configuration. He liked that the ceiling was never the same twice. He liked the bed; soft yet firm. And always warm in winter. There was a certain stability here, an irenic equilibrium that always made him feel as though he could _breathe._ _Yes_, Sirius thought, _I like this place_.

But he knew he couldn't stay in his precious interstice, the small, small piece of the world that was no man's.

He crossed the room and cast a long, forlorn glance at the moving gold swirls on the mirror-walls before stepping through the psychedelic oval stone-glass door, and into—

Lily and Remus.

_They don't even sound right together, their names,_ he noted. But he pushed _those_ thoughts to the back of his mind. _Those_ thoughts were for contemplation in his place. _Those_ were thoughts that were never meant to be.

"Hey, Lily— Remus." Recently, whenever he spoke Remus's name, his voice was invariably cold. Not rude, never, but all the same— cold.

"Hey," Remus said saplessly.

"Where are you two headed?" Sirius asked Lily, smiling.

The smile she returned was beautiful, if debile. "We were just going to the Great Hall. Grab a bite, see some friends. The Usual." Her eyes seemed more vapid than they had been in days. He told her so;

"Man, Lil, what's wrong? Lately you've been so… prosy, y'know? Are you okay?"

She assured him that she was perfectly fine, and said she'd check him later.

"Alright. See you two on the flip side, yeah?"

"A.F.A, Sirius." _Not likely, Moony_.

Sirius said nothing in reply and turned down the lengthy hall. He circumambulated the sunny corridors, passing other students with a smile or nod. It was always a wonder to him that students could walk these corridors without smiling constantly; the 70s were only around once!

He reeved through the portrait hole with a password (Piccadilly) and smile for the fat lady, and entered the Gryffindor common room. As he crossed the room, he noticed that the inhabitants were all females. Customarily, when met with this situation, he would leap onto a table and praise the Almighty for this divine oblation.

But there were things to be done.

(Okay, this part's rated R for language, but I'm not yet 18 so… hehehe)

As he approached the boys' staircase, he could hear murmurs and snatches of conversation.

" . . . _Bulstrode_, man. Malfoy did it with _Bulstrode_."

"How is that even _possible?!?_"

"The logistics are…"

And he entered the room.

Upon his knock every head had whipped toward him, and now one fourth of Hogwarts' male population was staring at him.

He grinned and entered, approached the cycloidal table, and dropped splay-legged into his Ovalia chair.

Still smiling, he said, "So, Petie, what's this I hear of Malfoy and Bulstrode?"

Peter Pettigrew grinned. "They did it."

"You mean Malfoy was sober long enough to make a pass a Millie B.?" He couldn't help the broad grin that overtook his features at the thought of a sober Malfoy.

"Hell no, man, he was too stoned to realize who it was! And who said anything about _Millicent_?"

"Or," added John Japes, "he's just another Slytherin slut!"

Sirius cut in here; they were wandering off topic. "Leave him be, guys, we've got things to do; we'll save the discussion of Slytherin sluts for later, yeah?"

"Well of course_ you _would want to stop talking about it," said Gerry Gambol from the Djinn chaise he was occupying; "You sluts gotta stick up for each other, right?"

"Watch who you're talking to, Gambol; push me and I'll break your face." Sirius grinned.

It was hard to threaten someone for telling the truth.

But as the idle chat resumed, he dropped his cheerful façade. The day Remus had come, shaking, into the 7th year boys' dorm was not a happy one. And that's what had started this mess.

Flash

"I did it."

__

I had been sitting on my bed, accompanied by my best friend, talking about Quidditch strategies. Before that, the conversation had been very different.

When Remus came in, so disparate from his usual self, he commanded the attention of all three occupants of the room.

"I did it," _he repeated_.

"Did what?" _asked Peter from his cabalistic niche across the room_.

Remus looked at James meaningfully before he clarified; "I asked Lily to go steady with me."

__

James emitted a pained grunt, like the statement had physically affected him. My eyebrows snapped together, and from the look on one of our faces, Remus took a step back.

_He hesitated for a moment before briskly walking into the room and standing at in its center, equidistant between the porthole and us. Peter looked from one party to the next, and, imperceptive as ever, smiled at Remus._

"What'd she say?"

_Remus stood, bereft for a moment._ "She said yes_," he said. He looked at James._ "Prongs, she said yes."

_James got up and blew past him, out into the common room, and (most likely) to Hogsmeade._

That left the three of us in the room, all joviality flown out the open portrait hole. Remus looked almost… betrayed. He lifted his hands and looked at them. He scrunched his eyes shut, his brows drawn together, and clenched his hands into fists. He walked (rather shakily) to his own bed and threw himself on it backwards.

"What have I done?" _he whispered. I suppose I wasn't supposed to hear it, but I did all the same._

"What have you_ done_? Only destroyed a bond of friends that the world will probably never see the like of again. That's all you've done. Biter."

_And as I left the room to find James, I heard Remus's impossibly soft voice again_; 

"But he told me to."

Flash

After that, James had submerged himself in the world of women, constantly searching for one from the softer sex to take _her_ place in his empty heart. And Sirius had joined him, if just to keep him within punching distance.

Marc O'Flaherty, who had taken up the gavel, snapped him out of his retrospection with 5 solid pounds on the small piece of Cherry wood beside the empty seat at Sirius's side.

That was James's seat.

"Alright y'all jive talkin', straight walkin', "the man is good for me" turkeys; let's get this party started, ya dig?" This (or something similar) was the customary formal address that began the "Gentlemen's Club Conference".

The "Gentlemen's Club Conference" was a meeting held every Thursday in a hidden room in the Gryffindor boys' stairwell. It included (but was not limited to) boys in their 3rd year or higher. Though the Club was comprised mainly of Gryffindors, there were a number of Ravenclaws, and a few of the braver Hufflepuffs.

No Slytherins. Period.

It was established a few years before the people in Sirius's year came to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he, James, and Peter were the youngest members ever admitted. Remus was a member by default of friendship… though his membership was questionable presently.

" . . . picture of the week is of Victoria Smethley; highlights the curvature of the posterior; rating: BOSS!"

The other boys cheered. Sirius couldn't help but smile at the eagerness of these boys. But he couldn't help but agree, either.

"Jinkies, baby, I thought she was a Fag Hag!" That was Lint Fletcher, an average-sized blonde.

"Dude, she _is_ a Fag Hag. But she's still sexy!"

The other Clubbers cheered once more.

James hadn't been present for a meeting in the past month, so his duties fell on Sirius.

"Alright, boys," he said. "Keep that picture circulating, you can drool over your dorm copies later; it's time to get down to the question of the week. Sir O'Flirty, if you please."

Marc O'Flaherty snickered at his nickname. "Say, Peter, slide me the parchment, dig?"

Peter smiled. "Sure thing, Sir."

O'Flirty caught the parchment as it neared him, and began to smile as he read; "Last week's question of the week was; describe the perfect effeminate leg. We have come to the conclusion that the leg should be muscled, slender, rounded. The calf should be developed. We went about all last week, slightly raising the cloaks of various females, in order to deduce the reality of the perfect leg; results: There _are_ females out there with perfect legs!"

"Outta sight, man!"

"Some such females," O'Flirty continued, smiling, "are: Matilda Brunhoust, Ravenclaw. Alice Liddell, Ravenclaw. Meiling Li, Ravenclaw. Jinn Hua, Hufflepuff. Alice Rector, Hufflepuff. Michelle Durst, Hufflepuff. Violet Steel, Gryffindor. Daisy Cruz, Gryffindor. Rose Pekkala, Gryffindor. Darice Gibson… Slytherin." He shuddered before continuing. "And, of course, our own mascot Goddess of Foxiness, Lily Evans!"

The mention of Lily's name met raucous applause. A few boys fell out of their chairs in their suscitation. It was strange to Sirius . . . that the death flower should be so celebrated. He'd heard a quote from somewhere; 'Death wears many faces.', and wondered if it applied here. But _those_ thoughts were for later.

Sirius took the reigns once more; "Order, men, to order! Flirty, carry on."

O'Flirty cleared his throat and went on; "Now that we have completed this most taxing of ordeals, we shall see if we are any further along with our "Mother" question; this was the question posed at the very first of our meetings, and the only question that goes yet unanswered; What is the Meaning of Life? Any volunteers?"

A pensive wind stirred in the room, and there was a heavy, serious silence. But only for a moment; 

"Babes, Booze, and Bad Ass Magic!" There was laughter and applause at this.

Sirius cloaked the hint of a smile. "For some reason, I think that there is more to life than that."

"Hell nah, man!"

"Shut it, Gambol. Now that that bit's over with, what is the question for _this_ week, Sir?"

O'Flirty smiled slightly as he spoke; "It has been brought to my attention that one of our members feels it necessary to imprecate in the past tense. Therefore, we shall contemplate this this following week; What is the Past Tense of Shut Up? Any and all comments should be directed to Sirius Black, James Potter, or myself. Sirius?"

"Meeting adjourned. Now let's book, kids."

"That means take ya jive ass t'bed! Ya dig?"

"¡Si, señor Flirty!"

"Aye aye, Cap'n!" And the boys dispersed.

Sirius began walking toward his own dorm, accompanied by Peter. Peter was a small boy, and a bit slender. His features held a sinister quality that put most people off, but he and Sirius had forged a weak bond years ago that had blossomed into a strange friendship. They were at the dorm door, not talking, when Sirius had a sudden urge to turn back to the rapidly emptying common room.

"Hey, Wormy, I gotta book, yeah?"

"It's gravy, baby. AFA"

"Check ya later, styles." And he headed back toward a corner of the common room, drawn by some weird force. As he neared the dark corner of the sprightly room, a figure stepped forward. Sirius experienced a sudden vertigo, one that lasted only a moment, before regaining his bearings. He peered at the shrouded figure.

"James!"

"Sirius—"

"Dammit, man, I thought you said you wouldn't use the Voice anymore!" Sirius was fuming.

James looked so . . . lost. He looked as though he'd seen his dreams forcibly shattered, stamped under foot, by someone he'd once called friend.

Perhaps he had.

Sirius's anger left him as his friend spoke; "I'm… I'm sorry… I hadn't… it was urgent. It's about—"

"Yeah."

James straightened abruptly; "We need to talk. Now."

And both boys promptly egressed the common room.

************************

So you read it, eh? What'd you think? I'd like to thank you for reading it, and if you leave me a nice, pretty review, I'll drop a hint to Rave, and maybe she'll let you into Heaven. The clouds are made of Cotton Candy, and there are water falls of. . . um. . . Sparkling Apple Cider. Now _that's_ good $#!% !

Anyway, if you need some help with your seventies slang, I'd suggest you hit 

http://www.inthe70s.com/terms.shtml

If you made it this far, you may as well review. And to the CCS people, I'm working on it, but I had intense writers' block, and it took some HP fandom to blast it back to hell. Sorry! I'll post chapter 7 in a couple days, mkay? ^.^

I'm extremely dependant on reviews, especially for the first chapter of a story. This is really a prologue, since nothing actually happens ^.^ But reviews are like a drug for me, and writing is life (even if I suck at it!). What is the point of living if I can't have my drug, eh?

Bad analogy, but I'm not willing to continue a story that no one likes! ^.^

I hated those 3 pages in the middles; Eurgh.

~!Ada!~


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